Glass box
by Himitsu Notebook
Summary: I was the first to notice you. By the time everyone else did, it was too late. AU


_PLUNNIE ATTACK! It began with my friend asked me to write a non-angsty non-dodgy KaiAo. I failed. Epicly. Instead I give you this slightly creepy thingy. Also, Has anyone ever wondered where the hell Aoko's mum is? Anyways, enjoy._

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I find it strange that I've managed to sit next to you for almost three years of my life and we haven't spoken a word. But then I suppose neither of us really made the effort. Not to mention you always seemed so wrapped up in your writing. I was fascinated you know. I used to read over your shoulder. I'd say it was the work of a genius. Sorry if you didn't want me to but you never stopped me so I assumed it was okay. Or maybe you just didn't notice. Perhaps. You never seemed to notice anything. Which is probably why the teachers gave up on you. You never answered, not once. So they stopped trying. You can't get answers out of a statue. Although I feel bad now for comparing you to a statue. Sorry. I wouldn't say you are a statue although you are just as silent and motionless. I found it a little hard to picture you out of your chair actually. Because you were always there, just as still and quiet, always writing something. I admit one of your stories brought a tear to my eye but I hid it. Even if I hadn't, I'm still sure you wouldn't of noticed. You may not have noticed me but I noticed you. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Is that a deliberate tactic? It works, It works really well.

So at lunch and break I found myself wondering where you went, who were your friends...Or did you even leave that chair at all? You were always there before me when I returned to class. I actually tried going back early a couple of times to see if I could beat you but you were always there. Maybe you just stayed there. I wondered if anyone else was quite so intrigued by you as I was. Somehow I doubt it, words just seemed to deflect off you. Sometimes I wondered if you were even there at all or were you just a figment of my imagination? Was I going crazy? Seeing ghosts? Aside from calling your name in morning registration, your presence seemed to be lost somewhere. That was the only time I ever heard you speak, and I couldn't gather much about your voice just from the word: "Here." You never really said it particularly convincingly. Where were you? I'd of given my left arm to find out. My friends used to say things like:

"She's a mute. Traumatized by an accident."

I wanted to find out if that was true or not. So I gathered up the courage to try and say hi. I think I poked you in the shoulder once to try and get your attention but inevitably it didn't work. So I sat down beside you as always, you didn't twitch. I smiled and leaned forwards to try and get a better look at your face.

"Hi." Suddenly, the window smashed. Your little glass box that you locked yourself away in just crumbled, and for the first time, you looked at me. You seemed a whole lot more human so suddenly. I didn't know you had blue eyes. You didn't say anything. You just stared at me like you had no idea who I was. You probably didn't. It was only brief, you returned to your writing. I made my second move.

"Umm..." Yeah, good start. What was I supposed to say? "Hello there, I've been watching you for three years and I'm fascinated by you"?. No, that did not work well. That sounded a little creepy, not to mention corny. So instead I said (God only knows why):

"It's funny, I've never heard you talk before." I mentally face palmed. I could've at least tried to say something poetic or funny, but this was just going to give you the wrong impression.

"...What do you want me to say?" You had a very nice voice indeed, although it almost wasn't a voice. Just a wisp of loneliness in the guise of words. Had you wanted me to talk to you all along? Were you just to scared to make the first move? Or perhaps I wasn't worth talking to. There was no point in pursuing a conversation that had begun on such shaky ground.

You know what I find even stranger about everything? You've lived next door to me all my life. Yet not one word ever transpired between us. Isn't it normal for neighbors children to play together? I don't think I ever saw you outside. But I can see in through your bedroom window should you have the curtains open. Plank of wood and I could've climbed across. I don't know about you but I think having two windows exactly opposite one another so close together is poor building planning. We walk the same route to school but I never opted to walk beside you. What an alienated tale this is turning out to be.

Now about that window of yours. I could see into your room. Not that I looked on a regular basis although sometimes it was a little hard not to. I saw you in there a couple of times, in a chair. It was a different chair but you still looked just as vacant. And you were still writing. I can only picture you in the sitting position really. I've only seen you standing up about...three times. It was raining one night, I could've sworn I heard you crying. Or maybe it was just the wind. I really wanted to hear your voice again. Perhaps I was going mad.

Things then began to get a little stranger. I looked through your window one day and a woman was there. She stormed in. You were writing as always, but then she took your paper and tore it up. I'd never been angrier in my life. So I sat there, seething away while this woman tore you to pieces along with the paper. She left the room and you began to cry. I really was hearing you cry. That's reassuring, I'm not insane. Once again, you looked human. You came to close the curtains, but before I could hide you noticed me. You looked horrified. As you reached to draw the curtains I cried out "WAIT!". You stopped and stared at me. I opened my window, despite getting a large gust of wind and quite a fair amount of rain thrown in my face. You slowly opened your window. I reached out. And so did you. First contact. Ever. I wouldn't say we were holding hands, rather linked precariously at the fingertips. That was all the distance between our houses would allow. I would've held you, but the gap between our houses was too big. I lost track of time. I think I feel asleep. Terrible cold all week. You were fine though.

I would come to the window more often, It took a very long time before you finally waved at me upon noticing my presence. Almost a year. You waved at me on Christmas day. That was the best present I'd ever received. We still weren't on verbal terms yet but somehow we didn't really need to talk. I enjoyed the sound of your voice, yet still no words transpired between us during school. I still couldn't bring myself to make a move. Why were you so hard to reach?

As I continued to watch you day by day, smiling and waving but no more, I noticed a frequency in the visits from the woman who ripped you to shreds. I watched in secret. She would scream at you, she lashed out at you, your face was bruised the next day. I wanted to call for help but I couldn't think of what to do. Then the worst thing of all happened. You didn't come into school. In the whole silent three years we had sat beside one another, you had never skipped school. You were there the next day but I was disturbed all the more.

Suddenly, you began to fade. You were attending school less and less. I didn't see you at the window anymore. The curtains were always closed. Then you stopped coming all together. Yes, I saw the headlines. I'm so sorry. I miss you so much.

I'm saddened that I'll never get a chance to show you this. I always thought the way I could reach you was to write as spoken words just didn't seem to work. So I wrote our story. I'm sorry I didn't pursue that conversation, I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I didn't call for help. I let it happen. I try not to blame myself but it's too hard. Even though you no longer sit beside me, I still can feel you there sometimes. Nobody seemed to notice you were gone, just one less name on the register. Everyone thought it was a little strange that I left a bouquet of red roses on the desk for you. Once again, all I can say is, I'm sorry. Although it's a bit late for that now.

Kaito.

P.s. Did I mention that I loved you right from the start?


End file.
